


Al's Place Revisited

by fanfoolishness (LoonyLupin), LoonyLupin



Series: To Leap, to Fall: Al Calavicci x Sam Beckett [3]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/fanfoolishness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/LoonyLupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam visits a certain bar, now and again; a place where memory is hazy and things aren't quite what they seem.  This visit, something is different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Al's Place Revisited

As Sam gets older, he finds himself visiting a broken down old bar more and more. 

The bartender never changes. He’s always there, an enigmatic twinkle in his eye, a gravitas to the soft smile on his face that makes Sam feel both hopeful and solemn. Sam’s drink never changes, either; the same amber beer, the same schooner with the chip in the base. He toasts the bartender with the same tired laugh, every time.

But the people change. That first time, the town was filled with coal miners, hardworking men in familiar guise, wreathed in black dust and stale sweat. The people have been different things to him at different times. Factory workers. Professors. Scientists. The faces change, but always, there are those he recognizes, people he has helped, people whose lives he has changed.

Sam is getting tired. The reflection in the mirror is getting older. His hair has finally submitted to going silver, and the crow’s feet are accompanied by deep lines in his face, strong wrinkles and shadows. He’s thinner, now, and walks a little stooped, his once tall frame shrinking under the weight of years.

He hasn’t seen Al — not the bartender, but the other Al, the real Al, his Al — on a leap in over a year.

The beer is bitter at the back of his throat, hops and barley not enough to take away the sting of a truth he’s trying not to face. 

The crowd in the bar laughs together. Sam sighs into his beer, but a movement from the bartender catches his eye. The bartender gestures, a tip of his head toward the front window. 

There’s a man and a woman outside. Sam can’t make out any of the features of the man, the door frame being in the way. But the woman looks familiar. Her hair is dark, her features soft and lovely. She’s smiling. She says something to the man, hugs him, kisses him on the cheek. Then she makes a shooing gesture, pointing him to the door. She turns and walks away.

The door opens.

Sam’s heart hammers against his chest. He’s striding toward the door before he realizes he’s moved. It’s only a few steps until he’s got the other man in an embrace, an embrace that’s waited for thirty years to be real flesh and blood. Al is warm and real and here, and he’s hugging Sam back just as tightly. Sam moves to rest his face against Al’s, trying to contain his emotions.

Sam breaks the embrace and looks down at Al, beaming, his eyes stinging. ”Al, is it really you?” he asks. 

Al’s grin is as wide as Sam’s, the tears in his eyes just as real. His hair is white, too, and his face shows the marks of time and worry, cigars and alcohol. Sam doesn’t mind a bit. ”Sammy. You didn’t think I was gonna let you do this on your own, did you?”

Sam laughs, clapping Al on the shoulder. ”No, I guess I didn’t.” He looks over at the bartender, who is placidly polishing a glass, but for just an instant Sam swears he sees him wink.


End file.
